Page 103 of The Butcher's Wife

I rise to my feet using just my leg strength and flexibility, another gift from Dom’s workouts. “Who gave Valeria her black eye?”

He gives me a look of genuine confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I spit blood onto the cement. “Was it Stefano or their dad?”

My phone buzzes with a call. Lasso tilts his head. “You gonna get that?”

Aceto will be here any minute. I’m running out of time.

“If you move, I’ll shoot you.”

Shit, he’s right in front of the door.

I wave the gun. “Walk to the edge of the balcony.”

He gives me an obtuse look. “Well, which is it? Stay still or move?”

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

“Move!” I shout.

He scoffs and takes a few steps back. With my gun trained on his face, I open the glass door and shut it, locking it from the inside. He scowls at me through the glass.

I hold the gun close to my chest and race downstairs.

When I get to the first floor, I crash into Valeria and swallow a scream.

She looks horrified. “Your face!”

“I gotta go,” I say, wrenching on her arm. “Come with me. I can’t leave you here.”

She twists out of my grip. “Go! I’m fine. Just go.”

She runs upstairs before I can grab her. I hesitate for a split second until I hear Stefano cursing upstairs, then I dash out the front door and throw myself down the porch steps toward my car.

The keys slip in my hand over and over until I finally shove them in, start the car, and drive off, tires squealing.

24

DOM

I had a whole thing planned.I’d sit in the living room with Eduardo standing guard and wait for her to come in, soft and contrite.

But I forget all of that when Annetta steps into the penthouse with blood on her face.

I leap up from the couch, ripping past Eduardo, and cup her face in my hands. Blood is smeared under her nose, and the right side of her face is scraped. Did she get in a fight?

I’m going to have to kill someone tonight.

Her first thought, annoyingly, is not for me but for Eduardo.

"What happened?" she asks, pushing against my hands.

Eduardo's mouth is set in a grim line as he cradles a stained bandage around his left hand. He silently looks at me. He’s smart enough to let me answer.

"He failed in his duties.”

Understanding dawns in her eyes before she hardens her face into a furious expression. “What did you do?"